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Pondering Prayerfully over Time and Pie

The eldest child I parent sat me down on the side porch for one of her deep talks. For being only nine-years-old she had some rather profound thoughts.


She adjusted in her wicker seat and placed her hands across her lap. "Is Daddy sad that he doesn't play with us?" She asked as her two younger brothers chased each other on the drive oblivious to the deep conversation we girls were having.


I sat for a moment pondering what she meant. Her father is very intentional in pouring his time into his children, so I knew it was not a question coming from a place of lack or void.


"Hmm." I smiled warmly as I find joy in understanding what my child thinks and feels. "Do you mean to ask if Daddy is sad that he has to work while we get to be home playing?"


"Yes!" She perked up as she also found joy in my understanding.


"Oh, sweet girl. Daddy loves you so much and would absolutely adore being here to play with you during the day. But because he loves you he goes to work every day to make sure we have money to pay for the things we need."


"Mommy, can we have a family movie night, dad's favorite food, decorate and clean up to celebrate how hard dad works?" "That sounds like a really beautiful idea. Daddy will really appreciate you thinking of him."


We informed the boys of her plan and we all headed inside to enact this precious, empathetic surprise.

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This is the type of father-daughter relationship I wanted for my birth child when I was making an adoption plan. A man like this is why I ultimately chose placement over parenting. Not every biological mother comes to the choice of adoption through way of providing a loving, intentional father, but for me and many others, this is our reasoning--albeit not usually the only reasoning behind our choice.


My daughter's recognition that her father loves spending time with her was such a blessing to my momma heart. It brought me so much delight to see her comprehend his love in her own child-like way, but it also broke my heart and brought tears for my birth child.


Does my birth child have a relationship with her adoptive father like my parented children have with their biological father? Does my birth daughter know how loved she is through his intentional time spent on her? These questions and so many more trickled down my face through tears as I mixed together the ingredients for a pie crust--cherry pie and pizza, being my husband's favorite, were on the menu for that night.

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Birth mothers don't forget. We start out with the lives of our birth children all-consuming our minds, then as we heal we begin to make space for other thoughts and for our own lives. Time moves forward, new thoughts arise but in the midst of our lives, we are pulled back to the time when our minds had no space for anything other than our birth children and our eyes let loose some of the pressure and pain through tears. "Lord, let her be loved. Let her know how important and precious she is to her earthly father so that she more readily understands her Heavenly Father's love." I prayed as I wiped the tears from my cheeks.

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The pie baked, the house got cleaned and decored and the little lady with the precious heart got all dolled up for the man who loves her well with his time. My heart exploded for the children I parent and prayed for the one I placed...


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© 2019 by Jennifer Mae.